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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25896994">Operation Playpen</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sometimes_i_right/pseuds/sometimes_i_right'>sometimes_i_right</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Crack Treated Seriously, Fix-It, Gen, No Beta We Die Like Clones, Pranks and Practical Jokes, depending on your point of view, gone wrong, or very very right</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 11:53:22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,197</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25896994</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sometimes_i_right/pseuds/sometimes_i_right</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It starts, as many things do, with Obi-Wan Kenobi looking absolutely miserable.</p>
<p>He's a skinny little thing, all sarcasm and sass and not a scrap of fat on his frame. The war has worn him thin and gaunt, but his tongue is as acerbic as ever so most people are happy to look away, happy to ignore the soul-crushing defeat any Jedi - but especially this Jedi - suffers as they lead children to their deaths.</p>
<p>But Quinlan Vos is not most people. He is, in fact, quite eager to consider himself entirely outside "most people." So when he comes across Obi-Wan Kenobi looking absolutely miserable, he does what any excellent friend and un-ordinary person would do.</p>
<p>He plays a prank.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Obi-Wan Kenobi &amp; Ahsoka Tano, Obi-Wan Kenobi &amp; Quinlan Vos</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>363</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Operation Playpen</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
    Ahsoka Tano was excited for a Temple rotation. Gallivanting across the
    galaxy with Skyguy and the 501st was a lot of fun, but every now and then a
    girl just wants a chance to go home and <em>breathe.</em>
</p>
<p>
    And maybe Skyguy was starting to get a little antsy, and maybe everyone and
    their Grandmaster knew that the best way to get Skyguy to stop jumping down
everyone's throat was to let him spend time with Senator Amidala, so    <em>maybe</em> Ahsoka had dropped a few hints to Master Obi-Wan. No one had
    any evidence of her meddling, so what could they do?
</p>
<p>
    Well, they could vanish into the depths of 500 Republica and leave their
    hapless Padawan bored and Temple bound.
</p>
<p>
    So maybe Ahsoka Tano was only <em>mostly </em>excited for a Temple
    rotation. A chance to breathe and attend classes in person was nice, but
    she was far too used to running from battlefield to battlefield to really
    settle into the serene and frankly plodding pace of the Temple.
</p>
<p>
    And, okay, she could admit it. She was bored.
</p>
<p>
    …Which meant it was time to see if Master Obi-Wan was available for jar'kai
    lessons.
</p>
<p>
    Satisfied, the young togruta bounded down the stately halls of the Jedi
    Temple towards the apartments. She smiled and bowed her head to the handful
    of Knights and Masters she passed, and waved cheerily to a clan of
    younglings toddling from the archives clutching enormous datapads to their
    tiny chests. The whole clan excitedly began waving back before remembering
    they were practicing calm this week and visibly reigning themselves in.
</p>
<p>
    Ahsoka smiled in nostalgia. She had sucked at practicing calm at their age.
    It was a very good thing the crechemasters had more patience than a hunting
    lothwolf when it came to enthusiastic youngling outbursts.
</p>
<p>
    She was still smiling as she approached Master Obi-Wan's door. She
    activated the door chime for politeness' sake and automatically keyed in
    her lock code, already prepared for the automatic reminder she didn't need
    to ring the door every time she visited.
</p>
<p>
    She barely heard the panicked, "Don't!" before the door slid open and the
    floodgates were released.
</p>
<p>
    Hundreds - no, <em>thousands - </em>of colorful plastoid balls poured out
    of Master Obi-Wan's apartment, a veritable wave of playpen balls suddenly
    pressing against her legs and hips as they sought lower ground. They were
    worse than sand, spilling into the hall and across the stately marble halls
    like an infection. And they didn't stop! She tried catching the press of
    balls, tried to contain the chaos from invading the rest of the Temple, and
    only succeeded in slowing the inevitable escape.
</p>
<p>
    The wave of balls suddenly stopped, and Ahoska looked up from the colorful
    monstrosity to see Master Obi-Wan standing waist deep in the middle of his
    apartment, one hand outstretched as he used the Force to create a
    restraining wall. She guiltily looked back into the hall, tallying the
    hundreds of balls that had escaped versus the thousands still inside the
    apartment.
</p>
<p>
    She waded into the apartment and used the Force to close the door. They
    could deal with the wayward balls after it was safe to open the room.
</p>
<p>
    "Master Obi-Wan?" she asked uncertainly as the older man relaxed.
</p>
<p>
    "Yes, Ahsoka?" he replied placidly, as if he weren't standing in the middle
    of a youngling's dream. She shook her head.
</p>
<p>
    Some things were simply not worth asking. She would learn the story soon
    anyways.
</p>
<p>
    "Do you need help?" she offered, and felt a smile stretch across her face
    at the relief that crossed Master Obi-Wan's own.
</p>
<p>
    He chuckled. "A little assistance would not be remiss, I suppose," he
    answered wryly.
</p>
<p>
    Ahsoka giggled and waded towards the kitchenette, stumbling and slipping
    slightly at the unusual resistance. Whoever had dumped the balls had kindly
    left the bags they used to transport everything behind, but had less kindly
    left them far from the entrance.
</p>
<p>
    She was no expert, but this stank of Quinlan Vos.
</p>
<p>
    She grabbed a bag and started manually filling it before quickly giving up
    and using the Force to levitate enormous piles of balls into the bags in
    one go. It was easier to feel less guilty for such trivial use of the Force
    once she noticed Master Obi-Wan doing the same.
</p>
<p>
    "Hey Master," she called, levitating three yellow balls around her montral
    tips like a strange headdress. "Look!" The Jedi Master obediently looked
    up, and Ahsoka schooled her face into a look of smug superiority, pulling
    herself up to her full height and looking down her nose at the ball pit
    like they were the lower levels. "I'm a senator," she explained.
</p>
<p>
    She laughed in surprised delight as Master Obi-Wan chucked a blue ball at
    her face.
</p>
<p>
    They didn't finish clearing the ball pit for a while after that.
</p>
<p>
    (And maybe a mere two Jedi simply weren't enough to fully clean up this
    mess. And maybe Master Obi-Wan suggested calling for reinforcements in the
    form of Masters Windu and Rancisis and Tiin. And <em>maybe</em> when these
    esteemed Jedi Councilors arrived, a Padawan and her Grandmaster were lying
    in wait with a wall of balls ready to overwhelm any who stepped through the
    door.
</p>
<p>
    And maybe, once Master Windu's face stopped twitching and everything was
    once more contained, a few thousand balls vanished from the Temple to
    reappear on the Resolute. Maybe. No one could prove anything.)
</p>
<p>
    -0-
</p>
<p>
If anyone asked, she was practicing stealth. Not that anyone    <em>would </em>ask, since she had taken great care to not be noticed as she
    snuck into the air ducts.
</p>
<p>
    She slipped through the walls of the Resolute, using the Force to muffle
    her movements as she painstakingly dragged her
    <s>
        stolen
    </s>
    borrowed goods along. Her objective was the rec room, three decks and
    almost a kilometer of ducting away.
</p>
<p>
    Force, she hoped the look on her target's face was worth the trouble.
</p>
<p>
    She was halfway to her objective when she was forced to admit there had
    been easier ways to get her assets in position. She could have stuffed
    Master Obi-Wan's playpen balls into nondescript crates and carried them
    through the halls. She could have covered them in blankets and claimed they
    were gifts crocheted by the temple younglings for the clones. She could
    have just openly carried the damn things through the halls and glared down
    any vod who questioned her.
</p>
<p>
    But no. She was trained by Anakin Skywalker, and that meant sneaking
    through walls and making everything unnecessarily difficult because "It's a
    good idea, Snips! What? You don't trust your master?"
</p>
<p>
    She's not sure when harebrained plans started to become her default, but
    she really hated it at that moment.
</p>
<p>
    Her muscles were cramping and she desperately wanted to stretch by the time
    she was in position over the center of the rec room. Dozens of vode were
    spread throughout the room, working diligently on the equipment someone -
    likely Master Obi-Wan - had at one point requisitioned on the 501st's
    behalf. To her immense satisfaction, she spotted a shock of blond atop a
    familiar brown face jogging at a treadmill.
</p>
<p>
    She concentrated, calling the Force to slowly unscrew the vent cover and
    pull the grate alongside herself. She felt a nervous sweat trickle down her
    back as she carefully manipulated the containers of balls around her,
    flinching as her knee landed wrong and an echoing <em>bang </em>sounded
    beneath her.
</p>
<p>
    Heads snapped towards the weight bench positioned on the wall below and
    behind her. Ahsoka froze, heart pounding in her chest.
</p>
<p>
    "Tup!" Rex scolded as he crossed the room. The Padawan watched with baited
    breath as he approached her position. "What happened?"
</p>
<p>
    "Wasn't me, sir!" Tup protested.
</p>
<p>
    "Wasn't you?" the captain asked, skepticism clear on his face and in his
    voice. Ahsoka eased the first container open, eyes fixed on Rex as the
    hapless clone continued towards the bench. Just a little closer… "If it
    wasn't you then--" Rex mused, amber eyes flicking up and landing on her.
</p>
<p>
    A wicked smile stretched across Ahsoka's face, Rex blanched, and Ahsoka
    opened the first container to unleash hell upon the hapless captain.
</p>
<p>
    The clone spluttered as balls rained down, pelting his head and shoulders
    and spilling onto the ground around him. The other vode could only watch in
    confused delight? Horror? As their captain was attacked by a flood of
    harmless plastoid.
</p>
<p>
    "What the--?" he barely gasped out before Ahsoka opened the second
    container over his head, cackling the whole while. "Ahsoka!" he shouted as
    the second wave died out.
</p>
<p>
    Only for her to open a third container.
</p>
<p>
    The vode were howling with laughter as she ran out of balls and launched
    herself from the vents to the rec room floor. Rex recovered fast enough to
    pick up two balls and throw them at her retreating back, which only
    prompted his vode to similarly arm themselves and hurl the balls at each
    other.
</p>
<p>
    The Jedi Padawan coulnd't help but feel proud when she is summarily
    surrounded by Rex, Fives, Tup, Jesse, Dogma, and Hardcase in the mess hall
    later that day and pelted by the colorful plastoid balls, to Skyguy's utter
    confusion.
</p>
<p>
    -0-
</p>
<p>
    The playpen balls were becoming a problem.
</p>
<p>
    The story of Ahsoka's Assault on Rex had become legendary, spreading
    through the Resolute to the Negotiator and on to other ships with a
    rapidity that would have been alarming to anyone not intimately familiar
    with the GAR rumor mill and the gossiping nannies of the 212th. It had
    become annoyingly commonplace for sneaky vode to hide the colorful balls in
    the most inopportune locations.
</p>
<p>
    Weapons locker? Balls. Armor rack? Balls. Sleeping bunk? Balls. Fresher?
    Balls. Mess hall? <em>Balls.</em>
</p>
<p>
    Where Ahsoka had gotten the original playpen balls, Goodstuff had no idea,
    but they seemed to have multiplied after the 501st had met with the 212th
    over Eriadu. No individual trooper had managed to gather enough balls to
    flood a room or reenact the Assault on Rex - thank the stars above and all
    the blackness of space - but it was not for lack of trying. His own squad
    was just one of many attempting to build a secret stockpile.
</p>
<p>
    Goodstuff personally considered it a stupid waste of time, but Chips and
    Rotgut had promised him a nerf dinner if he helped. And the thought of
    tender meat dripping with juices and thin golden butter rivulets, kissed
    with char lines and delicate herbs next to a pile of delightfully crispy
    green veggies and soft, fluffy mashed tubers was enough to make Goodstuff
    agree.
</p>
<p>
    Of course, the end goal was a pipe dream if Goodstuff had ever heard one.
    At least a nerf dinner was achievable (and delicious). Playing a prank on
    General Kenobi impressive enough to become an ARC trooper? They would have
    better luck begging Commander Cody for permission to transfer to the 212th.
</p>
<p>
    And every shiny knew, vode simply didn't transfer battalions.
</p>
<p>
    But the rest of Vortex Squadron seemed to believe their futures as the
    baddest bunch of ARCs was all but guaranteed, and Goodstuff really did want
    a nerf steak, so he grudgingly went along with the madness. Considering
    most of the vode knew he was opposed to the rampant ball-based shenanigans,
    he was the perfect trooper for transporting Vortex Squad's ill-gotten loot
    to their secret stash.
</p>
<p>
    And the secret stash was just another way this whole plan was going to go
    balls-up. Which halfwit thought the best place to hide the balls they
    planned to use to prank General Kenobi was in General Kenobi's room?
</p>
<p>
    Probably Rotgut. That trooper must have gotten into the really good stuff
    and started to plan or something equally stupid.
</p>
<p>
    Goodstuff tried not to stiffen as he turned the corner into the natborn
    sector. The Generals may be surprisingly approachable, but the same could
    not be said for the smattering of natborn officers who crewed the Resolute.
    He was privately convinced the only reason he had survived his first trip
    through the natborn sector (and the mortifying collision with Ensign
    Dicrys' latemeal) was because General Skywalker and the 501st pulled such a
    ridiculous number of assignments there simply hadn't been time to send
    Goodstuff for decommissioning.
</p>
<p>
    Of course, Vortex considered Goodstuff's perfectly justifiable reluctance
    to enter the natborn sector as yet another reason he was the perfect mule
    for their prize. The shabuire.
</p>
<p>
    Stars, that nerf steak better be worth it.
</p>
<p>
    He saluted Admiral Yularen as the distinguished man walked by, silently
    praying the man didn't see how he trembled. The Admiral offered a return
    nod, hardly looking up from his datapad as he went, and Goodstuff sagged in
    relief once the man was gone.
</p>
<p>
    Maybe General Skywalker's Force was with him?
</p>
<p>
    He scampered down the hall and fumbled at the keypad a few times before he
    finally successfully punched the door release and slipped inside. He let
    out a sigh of relief as he entered the spare dignitary's quarters, feeling
    tension he hadn't even known he had carried melt away.
</p>
<p>
    He basked in the feeling for several moments before the door chime
    interrupted, a soft beep to remind the dignitary that the door was still
    ajar. He flushed and slipped further inside, allowing the door to slide
    completely shut behind him.
</p>
<p>
    Goodstuff didn't hesitate to shove a hand down his shirt, fishing for the
    balls he had stuffed close to his chest. The sling Salt had fashioned from
    a brother's spare blacks had done its job, keeping the two pyramids of
    plastoid balls in place for discrete transport across the ship.
</p>
<p>
    He looked around for a moment, running through the mental checklist of
    places he had left to hide the balls. He had finished the closet some weeks
    ago, and the fresher was getting decently full, which left the bed and the
    desk as his next options.
</p>
<p>
    General Kenobi was always working on his datapad. It would be rude to
    interfere with the man's work ethic by hiding balls in the desk.
</p>
<p>
    Decision made, Goodstuff made certain the balls were safely tucked beneath
    the thin pillow, and slipped back out into the hall.
</p>
<p>
    If he hurried he would be able to get a second latemeal in.
</p>
<p>
    -0-
</p>
<p>
    Sheev Palpatine was irritated. How his apprentice and that abomination
    masquerading as a Separatist general managed to botch even the simplest of
    tasks was a mystery he feared the galaxy would never solve. Why he hadn't
    killed either of them was an even greater mystery.
</p>
<p>
    (Well, that was actually a lie. He simply had too much work to do to waste
    time replacing incompetent underlings.)
</p>
<p>
    So anyway, Sheev Palpatine was irritated. He had been <em>this</em> close
    to convincing the senator of Fath to put out a hit on Organa when Dooku had
    called and begged him to bail out their latest scheme. That the proud Sith
    had been reduced to begging and scraping like a common peasant was the only
    reason Sheev had agreed.
</p>
<p>
(And ok, that was another lie. An excuse to zap his unruly apprentice    <em>and </em>unfettered access to Skywalker for the week long transit to
    Ulsa before he would be picked up by Dooku? Sith <em>hells</em> yes!)
</p>
<p>
    It was truly unfortunate, however, that the only cabin appropriate for the
    Supreme Chancellor of the Republic often doubled as temporary quarters for
    Republic Generals as they bounced between assignments. The Resolute was,
    after all, a warship, and spare bunks, let alone private bunks with equally
    private freshers, were a luxury reserved for a despicably miniscule number
    of cabins.
</p>
<p>
    When he was Emperor, he would make sure future warships had more than
    enough bunking for people of his rank. It was undignified for a Sith of his
    personage to sleep where someone as disgustingly <em>light </em>as Obi-Wan
    Kenobi had once slept.
</p>
<p>
    What's worse, Kenobi had apparently spent more than a few nights in this
cabin on the Resolute. His Force presence lingered, and an oppressive    <em>calm </em>and <em>peace </em>permeated the room and made his skin
    crawl. Why that disgusting <em>Jedi </em>felt the need to meditate in this
    cabin every time he came on board, Sheev could only begin to imagine.
</p>
<p>
    He wrinkled his nose and gagged slightly as he shuffled past the viewport
    where Kenobi's Force signature was the strongest. It was truly a pity he
    couldn't wipe Kenobi's signature (and Kenobi himself) from the ship (but
    really the whole galaxy) right this second, but that would put his secret
    identity at too much risk.
</p>
<p>
    No, he would have to settle for smothering the light in far subtler ways.
    It was a pity, but it did allow him to indulge his second favorite past
    time: watching Jedi walk past his Sith artifacts without batting an eye.
</p>
<p>
    (There had been nothing more hilarious than watching that little green
    troll hobble past the spirit urn of Darth Xios, infamous for the ritual
    slaying of and bathing in the blood of a thousand children. The fool hadn't
    even flinched!)
</p>
<p>
    He gathered the Statue of Decre from his pack and scoffed as the statue
    tried to overwhelm his mind in the Force. Really. He thought they had moved
    past that stage.
</p>
<p>
    Clearly this statue did <em>not </em>deserve to be prominently displayed,
    and would continue to be relegated to some dark corner of the room until it
    learned better.
</p>
<p>
    Sheev rolled his eyes and moved towards the closet. He balanced the Statue
    in one arm and pressed the button release, watching as the door slid open
    with a soft hiss<em>.</em>
</p>
<p>
    "What?!" he exclaimed as he was <em>assaulted </em>by plastoid balls
    pouring from the shelves. "Who <em>dares?" </em>he snarled, kicking at the
    colorful balls and nearly losing balance as one rolled underfoot. He
    slammed the statue onto the nearest shelf and stomped to the intracomm
    panel to demand a droid clean this mess.
</p>
<p>
    "Of course, sir. A droid will be by shortly," a mechanical voice soothed
    from the panel. Sheev growled lowly - and had to hastily check that the
    panel was muted - before stomping back to his bags. When he was Emperor…
</p>
<p>
    He snatched the cursed Vase of Vetala and his toiletries to set up the
    fresher. The irate Sith Lord hardly paid attention as the door slid open to
    reveal a standard GAR fresher in drab grey. He carefully arranged his
    grooming equipment in the Vase, smirking at the thought of <em>this </em>
    Vase being used in such a mundane manner, and moved to tuck the bouquet
    behind the mirror.
</p>
<p>
    Only for more balls to spill out from behind the glass and into the basin.
</p>
<p>
    "Of all the <em>unprofessional--!"</em> he hissed, slamming the mirror-door
    shut. He grabbed one of the cheery balls and chucked it towards the sonic
    shower door in rage.
</p>
<p>
    And nearly screamed as the door bounced open to reveal the entire shower
    was stuffed with balls.
</p>
<p>
    How <em>dare </em>these <em>pawns </em>make such a mockery of him?! He gave
    the GAR <em>life! He </em>created the war the pathetic <em>clones</em> were
    commissioned for! He secured funding for the battleships the whole Army
    used. He was the Supreme <em>Kriffing</em> Chancellor! Was it such an ask
    to be given some Force-damned <em>respect?</em>
</p>
<p>
    He breathed harshly, and blinked in surprise as he smelt the acrid scent of
    melted plastoid. Somewhere, in his fury, he had summoned the Force to fry
    the offensive toys.
</p>
<p>
    He tucked his rage and fury away and scanned the Force. Skywalker was
    distracted by something - probably his meddling <em>wife </em>- and it
    seemed his momentary lapse of control would go unnoticed.
</p>
<p>
    Still, it would not do for all his plans to unravel because of something as
    childish as playpen balls.
</p>
<p>
    By the time the cleaning droid arrived, maintenance would find the fresher
    had suffered an electrical malfunction of some kind. It was truly fortunate
    the Supreme Chancellor had not been using the fresher when the wiring had
    apparently shorted and fried all the contents of the shower.
</p>
<p>
    (There was no explanation for why the remains of plastoid balls were melted
    to the bunk. Maybe the sonic malfunction had been particularly powerful?)
</p>
<p>
    -0-
</p>
<p>
    "I think the Chancellor is a Sith Lord," the young togruta said as the
    stars outside the viewport stretched and streaked into the swirling lines
    of hyperspace.
</p>
<p>
    Skyguy gave her a skeptical look, face screwing up at the thought that his
    exalted friend could ever be something so evil. Ahsoka scowled at the
    obvious dismissal. She knew what she felt!
</p>
<p>
    "There's something wrong with the Chancellor," Ahsoka insisted. "He may not
    be a Sith Lord, but Master Obi-Wan's room is all Dark and Fixit says the
    wiring damage made no sense. He swears the wires he had to replace were
    connected to the toilet and lights, not the sonics."
</p>
<p>
    "I think you're grasping at straws, Snips. Maybe Fixit got his wires
    crossed. Or maybe EMI from the damaged cables interfered with the sonics,"
    Skyguy offered.
</p>
<p>
    Ahsoka offered her own skeptical look at her master. And here she thought
    her master was the best mechanic in the Order! He had certainly taught her
    enough to know sonics didn't work like that.
</p>
<p>
    Skyguy remained stubbornly disbelieving. Ahsoka made a frustrated noise
    deep in her throat. "Fine. I'm going to work on katas if you want to join
    me," she offered, already turning to leave.
</p>
<p>
    "Right with you," Skyguy promised.
</p>
<p>
    They practiced katas for an hour before inviting some of the vode in for a
    spar. By the end of their training session, Ahsoka's muscles burned and
    tired satisfaction had crept into her bones. She was tired but settled in a
    way she only achieved after hard work or many hours of meditating with
    Master Obi-Wan or Master Plo.
</p>
<p>
    Her master wandered off to do something, which left her to work on her
    studies. She still had astronav and a history report to complete, plus
    whatever additional lectures the teaching masters had sent out to padawans
    stuck in the field. She settled in the mess hall, letting the constant low
    din of vode's voices sooth her.
</p>
<p>
    And a good thing she found the clones' presences soothing, because the
    history report was <em>not.</em>
</p>
<p>
    She scowled at the half written thesis statement at the top of her page,
    glared at the reference text on the datapad next to it, and huffed. No
    matter how long she glared at the report, she could not formulate a
    reasonable argument for how the Ulsa Native DEvelopment Registry and
    Wilderness-Ecology ARrangement- or any other recent Ulsan act - was related
    to the decline of manual industry on Coruscant.
</p>
<p>
    Master Obi-Wan was much better at this than she was. He never seemed to
    mind when she had questions about the strangest assignments…
</p>
<p>
    Ooh! And maybe he could take a look at the molten balls the droids had dug
    out of the Chancellor's sonic!
</p>
<p>
    A smile slid over her face as she keyed in Master Obi-Wan's information and
    began writing a formal request to her grandmaster.
</p>
<p>
    -0-
</p>
<p>
    "So let me get this straight," Quinlan Vos said as he lounged across the
    couch, hands hooked behind his head and delighted smile stretched across
    his face. "<em>You</em> found a Sith Lord because <em>I</em> put ten
    thousand playpen balls in your quarters?"
</p>
<p>
    Obi-Wan scowled. "Get your boots off the couch, Quin."
</p>
<p>
    "What I'm hearing is that <em>I </em>saved the galaxy. I think I'm entitled
    to putting my boots wherever I damn well please," Quinlan shot back with a
    smirk.
</p>
<p>
    "<em>You</em> hardly saved the galaxy. And even if you did, that does not
    give you the right to damage temple property," Obi-Wan protested.
</p>
<p>
    "Oh please, the droids can handle whatever microscopic specs of dirt I
    dragged in," Quinlan argued, though he did put his boots back on the floor
    to satisfy his overly stuffy friend.
</p>
<p>
    Obi-Wan continued as if he hadn't heard his friend say a word. "If
    anything, it was Ahsoka and the fine men of the 501st who uncovered the
    Sith Lord, not you or Anakin or even myself."
</p>
<p>
    "Mmhmm, and who was it that provided the balls in the first place? And who
    touched the slag and confirmed it was Sith lightning?"
</p>
<p>
    "Plo, actually, if you recall," Obi-Wan cut in.
</p>
<p>
    Quinlan rolled his eyes. "And who convinced you to call in Plo?"
</p>
<p>
    "I hardly needed convincing. I saw enough things melted by faulty wiring
    while raising Anakin," Obi-Wan sniffed.
</p>
<p>
    "Now you're just being stubborn," Quinlan whined.
</p>
<p>
    "And you're being childish."
</p>
<p>
    "You don't want to admit I'm a hero."
</p>
<p>
    "If you're a hero for unleashing chaos on the Jedi Temple, then we should
    go pin medals on every crecheling right now."
</p>
<p>
    "Hey, I got the Grand Army as well. Don't you understate my achievements,
    Negotiator," Quinlan warned, though Obi-Wan had raised an interesting
    point. If something as mild as stuffing a room full of playpen balls had
    uncovered a Sith Lord, what would the barely contained chaos of Jedi
    Younglings with too much sugar reveal?
</p>
<p>
    Aayla had been looking glum recently, and he would be a terrible Master if
    he didn't keep his former Padawan's mental and emotional health in mind
    even after she became a Knight…
</p>
<p>
    "Quin?" Obi-Wan asked, a mild note of concern in his voice.
</p>
<p>
    "Yeah?"
</p>
<p>
    "Whatever you're thinking about, don't do it."
</p>
<p>
    "Sure thing, Obes," Quinlan lied, mind racing.
</p>
<p>
    Obi-Wan Kenobi sighed and pinched his brow, but he did not look half as
    miserable as normal so Quinlan Vos counted that as a win.
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Let me know what you think :) Quinlan's prank was inspired by https://xkcd.com/150/</p>
<p>You can now find me on tumblr under sometimes-i-right</p></blockquote></div></div>
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